


Candles

by Merixcil



Series: Advent Fics 2017 [13]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Dancing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: Angelica dances through the bright empty halls of Monticello
Relationships: Thomas Jefferson/Angelica Schuyler
Series: Advent Fics 2017 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767640
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	Candles

Wax drips off every available surface, pages lost to its encroachment where candles have been left too long unattended. Monticello is cold at this time of year, but even without her furs to keep the chill off her shoulders, Angelica feels heat seeping into her bones. It pours off the fireplaces and drenches down from the chandelier. Come morning, it will be unbearably chilly, so she stands in the middle of the ballroom and holds herself in starting position for a dirge of her very own.

There's no one here to stop her, and really, its unseemly to have so much space left unused. She spirals out through movements carefully rehearsed for the season, marvelling at the way the candles shake and shudder in the wind generated by her skirts. If only there were a mirror in this room, that she might see herself in the throws of the dance and wonder at her own lustre.

She comes to a stop by the back windows, risen up to the tips of her toes to maximise command over the space. She can feel her cheeks flushed pink from exertion, growing all the redder even as er eyes turn sharp when she sees Jefferson watching her from the other end of the hall.

He doesn’t move, leant back against the mantelpiece sporting a lazy grin and a scandalously unbuttoned purple dress shirt that she's sure he wouldn’t treat any other house guests to. His eyes reflect the burning candles, speaking of devilish designs he has for her as the night moves ever more steadily towards a dreaded morning.

She beckons for him to follow and he doesn't move. Angelica calls to him and Jefferson remains resolute. It’s infuriating and fascinating and she wishes she had the strength of mind to walk away. She wishes she were weak enough to fall back from his challenge.

But she’s not, and she doesn’t really wish to be anything other than she is. Angelica moves quickly round the edge of the room, feeling heat ripple up from the candles and already sure that the way the light catches in her hair must be positively charming. When Jefferson steps in to pick up the broken pieces of the dance he doesn’t try to alter her course, letting the night wash up ad over and around them, but never breaking the stubborn little bubble of the light kept closeted in this room.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted as part of a multi chaptered 'advent fics' fic that I'm trying to split up. If you think you've read it before, you probably have


End file.
